When the night walks down the dark blue sky
by Kelpie the Thundergod
Summary: "He'd always say the same thing, as if it were a charm against any change in what they had and what they shouldn't dream of having." Four inter-connected one-shots.
1. Sleepless

**When the night walks down the dark blue sky**

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Four inter-connected one-shots. Manga-verse. Various POVs. All thanks goes to the lovely **Celesma** for being a great beta – without her help and encouragement, I would probably still be hesitating whether to publish this at all.

***  
><strong>Sleepless<strong>

Sometimes, he'd suddenly wake up in the night. With his head hurting and his heart heavy.

And every time – _every _time, Wolfwood would be awake.  
>"What is it now, Tongari?" he'd say.<p>

In a tired, weary tone for sure, but not like he'd actually been asleep until now.

In the beginning, Vash had guessed that, maybe, despite his attitude and everything, Wolfwood didn't really trust him and that therefore, he'd always stay alert and all.

Not like Vash would blame him.

He had often wondered at these times what the other man suspected him to do – knock him out cold and steal away in the middle of the night with his money (not that the priest seemed to have much of any to speak of)? Wolfwood had to have realized by now that he'd never do such a thing. Okay, _steal away_, yeah, well, maybe...

The point was that there were still these lines and dark circles under the priest's eyes, although it was obvious by now that he trusted Vash with his life. Of course it was probable that Wolfwood just didn't trust anybody else on this planet and, for some reason, didn't trust Vash to wake in case anybody sneaked up on them.

At first, he had thought he hit the nail on the head with that explanation, and even began to make fun of Wolfwood whenever the other man would look specifically roughed up in the morning, or playfully pouted about his companion's lack of trust in him to keep them safe.

But soon enough, he stopped with that again.

For all his seemingly easy ways, the priest was far more complicated than he'd thought. Because what was really odd about the whole thing was that Wolfwood never threw a fit whenever Vash made fun of him and his strange sleeping habits. He'd just mumble something about how the bed was a bitch or simply scowl and ignore him for the next few minutes. Typical Wolfwood behavior. Maybe.

Maybe it was just a bit _too_ typical.

Or maybe it was the way Wolfwood would get up after such a night, grab his sunglasses and hide his eyes behind his shades for the rest of the day.

Vash knew the priest didn't care for his appearance one slimy bit. It had to be something else. But as was the case with so many other things about his guide, every time he tried to really figure him out something else would happen out of the blue that screamed for his attention, like being shot at or almost getting run over by a sand-steamer. From time to time he had actually wondered if the priest had a hand in that, but then again, Wolfwood had to suffer through all of these incidents too.

So, he waited and watched.

The sleeplessness of the priest seemed to come and go pretty randomly, but it seemed worse after every one of his absences. And he was always awake when Vash was awake.

Sometimes they spoke. Sometimes it was just enough to know that there was someone else awake and with him then, however dubious a comfort that may have seemed. It made things easier to bear. Sometimes, he even felt it made him stronger. Not because he got to speak with _any_body, but because it was _him_, Wolfwood.

He'd hoped that his guide would, after some time, get over with whatever it was and talk with Vash about why he was awake that often. But he never said a word.

He didn't try to give it much thought, but maybe, Wolfwood knew that Vash feared what might be revealed otherwise.

So, when he'd wake with his heart hurting and his head heavy, there was still some relief, because he knew what would follow. He sometimes even heard him say it in the back of his mind when his guide wasn't even around.

"What is it now, Tongari?" he'd say.


	2. Speechless

**Speechless**

The restlessness was making him crazy.  
>That had to be it. The empty sky, the iles and iles of sand, the dusty cities, the people – in his dreams, they all looked the same and still he could never stay, it never ended.<p>

Sometimes he'd even feel like a stranger in his own body.  
>Like it didn't really belong to him at all. Like something had been lost on the way that he couldn't find, and he'd search and search in the dark emptiness until he'd forget his own name.<p>

Then, someone else would come and take it all away from him, his strength, his hands, his gun, _everything_ he had to protect the kids. He'd scream in his head and wake in total silence, his breath held and his muscles forced into painful motionless tension.

What really got to him, though, weren't the dreams of loss and pain – those he was used to – but the bright dreams.

The dreams about Vash.

They made reality really a bitch to deal with.

The others – he kind of saw them by now as nothing more than fuel to keep going, for they showed him in admirable, specific detail what would happen to the kids if he gave up, if he _failed_.

These dreams he knew how to deal with.

The dreams of Vash on the other hand – it was always a fresh, bright day with a clear-blue sky. And Vash was smiling. Smiling at _him_.

God, it was so ridiculous. He really couldn't explain it – why should he wish for something _that _unrealistic? He'd always wake in the middle of these dreams – not with a start, like normally, since nightmares didn't make for slow awakenings – but with a sort of bittersweet feeling that would stick through only half of the day if he was lucky. Not even the cigs could really take the edge off of that.

It was damn annoying.

The lack of sleep wasn't even the problem – that he had gotten used to so long ago he never really thought about it. It was about how selfish these dreams made him feel.

_Traitor_, they whispered in their wake.

It was about how they made him want to do ridiculous things. Turn this all around, tell Vash who he was, what he had to do.

It was about how they made him want to survive this for his own sake.

And then, there were these strange occasions where he'd wake up in the night from this overwhelming feeling of loss. And although he was kinda familiar with the feeling, he'd know that it wasn't his own. Then, other times, he'd wake up to the chilling certainty that Knives was around, or his presence at least. Sometimes he knew Knives checked to ensure that he hadn't fallen out of line. And sometimes, he felt Knives hadn't come for him but for some other reason.

Although it was tempting, he knew that waking Vash wouldn't change anything in the long run, so most of the time he didn't do it. He'd wait. He wasn't sure if Vash was aware of how much he knew. He certainly must have wondered.

Even so, he'd always say the same thing, as if it were a charm against any change in what they had and what they shouldn't dream of having.

It was simple. It was _right_.

"What is it now, Tongari?" he'd say


	3. Uncalled

**Uncalled**

"You don't love humans, Vash. It's nothing but a lie you have told yourself too many times."

The voice is cruel in its softness. It makes your heart hurt and your guts squirm. You try to wake yourself up but he won't let you.

"Not yet, brother. I know this is something you try to escape and don't want to face. You accept humans, I know. You even _like _them. You might not hate them – but ultimately, they disappoint you. So limited. So _fragile_. So narrow-minded. They always make the same mistakes. They never understand. You may not hate _them –_ but you hate that obliviousness in them, that impertinence. You want them to change. You want to make them _understand_."

'No. No, it's not true! I know that's what you want me to think!' You try to give that thought strength, but somehow, it still feels weak compared to the other presence in your mind. You try to shove the mesmerizing web of his voice away, try to clean your mind and separate your thoughts from his, but it is futile. You feel confused and trapped, like you've been thrown into deep, black water and now no longer know which way is up.

You try to block him out, and at the same time figure out how he got into your thoughts like that in the first place. Maybe through this, you'll find a way to wake yourself up without breaking the contact by sheer force and risking damage to your own mind in the process.

You _know _you are lying in bed.

It has to be past midnight now. You remember you've opened the windows all the way. The sheets are probably cool by now. Maybe you could see the stars through the thin curtains. You just have to open your eyes.

_Wolfwood._

Yes. He is probably lying beside you. Asleep. And –

Suddenly, you hear Knives' soft laughter in your head.

"So _this _is why you're so thickheaded about your _pure_, _unshakable_ love for this scum. I see, I see."

He ends in a kind of amused chuckle that is meant to show surprise, but you are certain that he has known about this before. It's probably the very reason he started this to begin with.

"You think because you're able to love, actually _want _one of them, despite the shortcomings of a human's mind and body, that's the proof we can live with them. That we're not that _different_." He keeps his voice strangely neutral, but you can feel the disgust as if he'd spat the words in your face.

"Oh Vash," the voice continues in mocking, false pity. "Don't you realize that you've tricked yourself? All these years you've spent on this planet, all those humans you've met – and yet, the one you finally chose to be with is one of the few whose body is well beyond human capacity. You _knew _that. Doesn't that make you think? Vash?"

There is silence after that.

Your eyes fly open but there is no real relief. It has suddenly felt too easy to wake up. Does that mean there has been something right in what Knives said? That a part of you wanted to listen?

Or that you tried so desperately to escape because you feared Knives' words?

No. No, you know it's not that. You can't explain, you're tired and confused, but you're sure he's not right.

Still, your heart hasn't stopped beating away in your chest. You have to fight the urge to leap out of bed because you can't do that, you'd wake Wolfwood and then you'd have to face –

Right in that moment, you hear someone sigh from somewhere behind you on the bed and the sound of smoke being blown out through teeth.

"A moment more and I'd have woken you up myself, Tongari."

"...you were awake?"  
>"Yeah. Probably because you were lying so fucking still instead of turning all the time and annoying the hell outta me like usual."<p>

You sense that your guide is trying to soothe you with his words, in his own way of course. But his explanation sounds a bit too casual.

He has been awake and smoking for some time now – in the middle of the night, as so often happens to be the case.

Why is that? Are you just getting paranoid? Or is there something you try not to see?

"I am sorry," you murmur absentmindedly, not caring that your answer comes way too late.

Wolfwood doesn't say anything. He seems to understand that you need a moment, even if he won't – _can't _– know what happened.

Or does he?

You are aware of the fact that there are so many things about your guide that just don't add up. And yeah, you _do_ knowthat Wolfwood's body is way beyond normal. But does that make him, as a person, _less _human? And who are you to decide?

Finally, you turn to face Wolfwood, who still sits beside you on the bed, naked and smoking in relaxed patience.

Immediately you feel your guide's eyes on you, but you don't lift your gaze yet.

Instead, you watch the steady rise and fall of Wolfwood's chest over the crumpled blanket around his hips.

If you listened hard enough, you'd be able to hear the other man's heartbeat.

"_So fragile..."  
><em>You look up and lock gazes with Wolfwood's dark, smoky eyes. They seem to say that he _knows_.

"What is it now, Tongari?" he says.


	4. Little donut

***  
><strong>Just some little donut.<strong>

It's the end of the day.

Sunset.

They are sitting on a veranda. Or rather, Wolfwood is, while Vash is more sprawled out across it, with his head kind of in the priest's lap.

Dust and smoke settle, and for once, there's peace, even though it's a mortal one.

Then:  
>"Nick?"<p>

"...Hmmm?"

Looking down.

He's smiling at him.

"I can see the sunset reflected in your eyes. Did you know?"  
>And his heart makes a sudden violent beat, like when you miss a step on the stairs, and it's really kinda like that.<p>

He sort of chokes and moves to put on his shades.

" – ! Hey! Stop that! Did you – did you just _blush_? That is so swe – mblgh!"

With that, Vash gets his mouth shut rather unusually – it doesn't keep him from smiling though.

The sky is wide, clear and dark blue above.


End file.
